


like ichor, honey golden

by LouPF



Category: Kaptein Sabeltann | Captain Sabertooth - Formoe
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Choking, Death, Decapitation, Demigods, Dismemberment, Gore, Guro, Horror, M/M, Murder, Necrophilia, Pirates, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Rebirth, Revenge, Scars, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: Pinky keeps coming back.Gorm isn't sure what to do with it.**Set after the events of Shark, Shark, Bite.
Kudos: 2





	like ichor, honey golden

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shark, Shark, Bite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172706) by [Crazydane666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazydane666/pseuds/Crazydane666). 



Pinky is back.

Gorm isn't sure what to do about it.

*

He's there when Gorm wakes - watching from the shadows over by the galley door - his expression blank.

Gorm blinks. His heart nearly stops. "...Pinky?" he breathes. Only last night had Gorm pushed the little boy into the floor, blood pooling around them - only last night had he torn his head off and fucked the remains. Only last night he had carved him apart and thrown the pieces overboard.

Just as he starts to wonder if he's seeing things, Pinky's unmarred - _whole,_ and flushed with life - face breaks into a childish smile. "Morning, Gorm," he chirps. "The captain's asking for breakfast. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting!" And with a cheery little wave, he skips out of the room.

Gorm stares after him.

Had he dreamt last night up? Was it a - a vision, of some sort? But the pleasure had felt so _real..._

Tearing out of his hammock, he flitters through the kitchen - the bucket is where he left it, and the knife, too - then again, they _always_ are. Slowly - meticulously - he starts combing across the floor, squinting at the cracks between the wooden planks to look for any potential remains.

Alas. Gorm has never believed in anything much supernatural, but either he has been _incredibly_ careful in removing evidence, or last night simply... didn't happen.

But then he sees it, brushing aside a breadcrumb.

Blood beneath his nails.

Somehow, proof that he really did kill Pinky last night does not make this situation any easier.

He casts a look over his shoulder, over at the door, where Pinky had left. How is he still here?

Who is he - the boy who stood clothed in shadow for just a moment too long?

*

The day is full of perplexed and confused thoughts.

*

What does he _do_? And - _how_ is this happening? And why? Does Pinky know? Does he remember? Is he truly alive, or just a shadowed figment of Gorm's already inventive imagination?

(He beams at Langemann while handing out food, and Langemann smiles back, ruffling his hair - so he is _here_ , at least - unless Langemann, too, is a creation by Gorm)

( _Dad_ , Pinky had cried, and Gorm bites down on his spoon to keep from reacting to the memory)

*

Maybe Pinky does not know? Maybe - is it a second chance, this thing? Was killing him the entirely wrong thing to do - has some higher power concluded that Gorm should right his wrongs?

After that too-long moment of hesitation this morning, Pinky has not shown any signs of knowing what went down last night. Should Gorm just let it pass? He's had his fun. Maybe it's the universe telling him to chill on the child murders.

Pinky natters away aimlessly while the two of them put away the dishes, and Gorm is listening with only half an ear - at least until he hears Pinky innocently blurt, "I'd just throw these dishes overboard, but alas, I don't think Langemann would appreciate that."

Gorm's blood turns to ice, and he spins around - heart hammering in his chest, terror clawing at his lungs. Pinky keeps humming away while scrubbing at a plate, oblivious - or uncaring.

But - but - but Pinky had been _dead_ when Gorm said that - he'd held his head between his hands and stroked his bloodied hair - and what does this _mean_ , what is Pinky going to do - and he _knows_ , he must know, of course, he knows!

Gorm grabs the nearest knife - yet dirty from preparing dinner - yanks Pinky away from the sink and into the wall - and plunges the blade into his belly.

Pinky doesn't make a single sound, only exhales hard. He looks up at him, and there isn't an ounce of pain in his expression - only a certain dull flatness, like he has nothing left to lose.

Gorm grunts - drags the knife out, then slams the knife back in again. Blood gushes out across his hands, warm and wet. Feel something. _Feel something_ , damnit!

Pinky doesn't even try to fight - the squirming, squeamish little thing that Gorm had held yesterday doing nothing to stop the knife being forced into his guts.

Again. And again. And again.

_React!_

Eventually, Pinky stops breathing, head lolling over to the side and body going limp. Gorm, wild and barely thinking clearly from the scent of the blood and the organs slipping out from the countless stab wounds, humps Pinky's thigh until he cums.

A bit of clarity returns. Gorm exhales, sitting back on his heels to look at the crumpled, lifeless body half-propped up along the wall. Blood and guts are spilling everywhere - including onto him and his newly-cleaned shirt.

He curses. Loudly.

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was.

Usually, given an opportunity like this, he'd have his way. But today has been weird. Probably a fluke.

...he hopes today is just a fluke. At least he's a little calmer, now, that Pinky's actually dead. Shaken, but calmer.

He forces himself to stand, then begins to gather Pinky and his organs in a pile.

Later, when he tips the bucket over the gangway, he mutters, "and _stay_ dead, this time."

*

Pinky does not stay dead.

He's there, at breakfast, eating the leftovers from yesterday next to a cheerful Langemann. Alive. There. _Here_.

"Are you alright, Gorm?" Benjamin, who sits by Gorm's right side, asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Pinky glances up, and his eyes - blue and green, green and blue, Gorm has drowned in them more than once - are alight with mirth. He smiles - and if it's a smile of too many teeth and too little humour, then it seems like no one but Gorm notices.

He knows.

How. How. **_How?_**

How does he _know_? How is he _back_?

What - what _is he_?

*

Has everyone else just showed up again after he's killed them? Is this normal? Is this a thing people just do? It doesn't _sound_ right, but what does Gorm know? He's never died!

*

He hasn't, has he?

*

No, no. Down that path lies madness.

*

But he can't just let Pinky walk around like that. He might pretend not to know, but - but - well, he _must_ know!

He waits until they're preparing lunch, and then he bashes Pinky's head against the stovetop until his skull cracks open and his brain spills across the floor.

And then Gorm fucks his brain. Just to try it.

*

"How hard can it be," Gorm grumbles, dragging Pinky's body across the darkened deck, "to just _stay dead??_ "

*

Gorm lies awake that night, staring into the darkness of the galley. He's sure he can hear children's laughter, somewhere in there. A small giggle, here and there.

He can't sleep.

He's being watched.

*

Pinky isn't there at breakfast the next day, and Gorm heaves a sigh of relief. Did he finally manage to kill him? Maybe the brains were the thing that needed to be destroyed... thank God.

*

And then Pinky runs past him mid-day, carrying a huge pile of rope and nearly stumbling in his own feet. Gorm spins to look after him, wide-eyed and heart hammering.

No. _No._

For the love of -

*

Gorm kills him. Again. And again. And again. He slits his throat, he stabs his eyes out, he shoves a banana down his airway. He chokes him, he stomps on his ribs, he shatters his face.

And he keeps coming back. Unharmed. Unhurt.

Smiling.

Like Gorm means _nothing._

Maybe it's how he's disposing of the body. Maybe - maybe - maybe the _sharks_ are angry at him - maybe they don't like Pinky?

But he has no other way to get rid of the body! And now he's sitting here with a corpse on his hands, and he has no idea what to do with it!

...or, well... he has one idea.

*

He stores the bones away in a crate and crushes the inedible parts into a stew that he shoves at the bottom of the trash. Gorm cooks the rest of him into delicate, soft meat - adds some potatoes, carrots, and onions to the mix - and a handful of salt, just for the heck of it.

He doesn't eat dinner that night. He tells the crew he has a headache and retires to the galley for 'rest' - but in reality, he lies tense in his hammock, staring vigilantly around the room. Often, his gaze falls on the trash or the crate with the bones.

He has hope that Pinky will not return after this.

That does not mean he believes it.

*

Pinky sits by the table patiently waiting for breakfast the next morning, and Gorm drops the pot of food with a loud curse.

*

The bones are gone. The _bones_ are _gone._ He shuffles through the trash, desperately looking for last night's stew - and he _doesn't find it_.

What! What! How!

*

He's imagining things. He _must_ be. People don't do things like these. They don't _work_ like this. Has he hallucinated every kill? Every single one of them?

No. _No._ Gorm must know. He can't keep going like this.

*

When Gorm corners him, Pinky gives him an impatient look and opens his mouth - but Gorm slams his hand against his face before he can speak. He's terrified of what he might say if given a chance.

*

This time he doesn't slice him apart or make a mess, he just chokes him until his heart stills - placing him in his own hammock while waiting for darkness to fall. Only then does he drag him out onto the deck, where he sets off to meticulously and carefully cut off his arms - hands - legs - feet. He severs Pinky's head - realizes, vaguely, that he's done that before and been far less terrified - and cuts deep gauges in his torso.

Blood pools around them as he works. He's up to his elbows in blood and muscles and skin, flesh and bones scattered around the place.

And then he pulls back, wipes his dirtied hands on his shirt, and exhales.

If no one sees that. If _no one_ sees that - if - well - well, then he'll know, won't he?

Sighing, he starts walking back to the galley to clean himself off.

A noise behind him stops him right in his tracks.

No. No _way._

Gorm turns.

There, right before his eyes, is every little piece he'd hacked off slowly being pieced back together. Skin melting into skin and bone cracking back into place, spine straightening and nerves connecting, veins and broken cells sowing into one another.

And Pinky opens his eyes.

And smiles.

"What _are you_?" Gorm breathes.

With lips bloodied and crooked teeth straightening, Pinky says, "something you cannot kill. Not in any way that matters."

No. _No. **No!**_

Gorm lunges, knife back in hand - and _still_ Pinky does not fight, not when the blade goes into his chest, or belly, or thigh - not when it digs deep into his throat. For the third time, Gorm tears Pinky's head off.

"What is it you fear?" Pinky asks, and Gorm gasps, staggering back - still holding his head in his hand, fingers clutching at his hair. Pinky looks at him, eyes bright and awake. "Me? Or the darkness within you?"

Gorm shrieks and flings the head away from himself, tossing it all the way over the gangway - and Pinky's laughter gets more and more distant before it disappears into a faded _splash_.

Trembling, Gorm picks up the rest of the body, stumbling over to the gangway to dump those overboard, as well.

He's too shocked to cry.

***

Sabeltann takes off his hat and closes the door behind him. Now, with this little spare time, he'll make sure to go through that stack of paperwork Langemann had convinced him to bring alo -

" _Pinky_?"

Pinky's sitting on his desk, ankle crossed over his knee and expression bored as he inspects his nails. When Sabeltann speaks, though, he looks up. "Oh, hi, Captain."

What - _what_ is he _doing_ \- "You - you _cheeky little -_ "

"App!" Pinky exclaims, hand shooting up to silence him. He hops down from the desk. "Don't jump to conclusions, now, I'm just here to talk. Could've just skipped that part of this, couldn't I?"

Sabeltann stalks over and yanks him away from his desk, snarling through gritted teeth, "I'll have your _head!_ "

Pinky sighs. "Be a tad more original, will you? Gorm's already done that, like, four times."

Sabeltann blinks. "I - what?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna kill Gorm."

Sabeltann lets him go, staring with wide eyes. "You _what_?"

Pinky shrugs a little. "He's killed me more times than I can count, so I find it only fair."

"You're foolish," Sabeltann says. "You're standing right before me."

Raising an eyebrow, Pinky makes eye contact - and then, slowly, he starts changing. Bruises and scars fade onto his skin - thick, pale ropes winding around his throat - across his face - wrists, neck, collarbones. His skull somewhat deformed, nose broken several times over. Hair is missing in small tufts here and there.

Sabeltann's heart is abruptly in his throat, and he stumbles away, tripping in his cloak and falling over on the floor. "Wha - wh - but _how -_ "

"So, you know how we never knew who my mother was?" Pinky asks, in a tone that suggests he is not currently a scarred and mangled mess. "Well, it turns out she kinda is a minor deity. Comes with a few perks, that."

"A - a - you're a - " Sabeltann stutters, flailing as he tries to climb to his feet again.

"Demigod, yep." Pinky fades back into himself with a cheery smile. "So, you know, just warning you that I'm taking revenge. About time, it's been nearly two weeks since he first killed me."

The scars suddenly make a bit more sense. "Gorm - did this - to you?" Sabeltann asks.

"Sure did," says Pinky. "I've about lost count, but we're on... about twenty kills now, I think. Me just continuously coming back is turning his world upside down." He laughs, then, childishly. But there is nothing childish about him. Not covered in those scars - not when he looks at Sabeltann with eyes like _that._

So - Gorm has killed several times? Nearly _twenty_?

Sabeltann may not always _like_ Pinky all that much, but he is nonetheless part of his crew, and his crew is _his._ What's more - if Gorm is willing to kill Pinky, what's to stop him from killing anyone else?

No. No, Sabeltann will not have any danger on his ship.

"Do whatever you want with him," he says, voice only a little shaky. "You know where the plank is."

"Oh," says Pinky, and smiles a cruel, cruel smile. "He deserves so much worse than just the _plank_."

And Sabeltann is inclined to believe him.


End file.
